


Sober

by Menatiera



Series: Bingo Fills [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, One-Shot, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Tony/Nat broship, i don't even know don't look at me, language learning, language learning as a coping mechanism, pre-ironwidow if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 15:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16977489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menatiera/pseuds/Menatiera
Summary: Because she did care. And it was something Tony wasn’t used to.“I’m not relapsing,” Tony scoffed, in English, forgetting about the impromptu language lesson.“Are you sure about that?” Natasha stood up, putting down the empty glass, and coming closer to smooth her palm on his shoulders.I love multilingual Tony & Natasha, okay. That's it.





	Sober

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for [Mei](https://letsleepoverwork.tumblr.com/) who betaed all of the TSB ficlets!
> 
> This is for [my Tony Stark Bingo card](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/post/180797017858/so-today-or-tomorrow-ill-start-posting-my-tsb) square T1: Sober.

He was clean.

He had been for years, decades even. He had gone through hell and came out of it triumphant more than once. He knew the risks. He knew the temptation too, and he was more than aware how temporary the ‘solution’ of booze would be. Still it was hard to stop himself as he swished the Scotch around in his glass, wondering if he could take a whole bottle, if he could drown his nightmares and worries and anxiety, if he could just… forget about everything.

Just for one night.

Instead, he spun the glass in his hand one more time, took a small sip and smiled politely at the man in front of him, whose name he had forgotten already, or probably hadn’t paid attention to in the first place.

Tony tried to force himself to actually listen to this ridiculous, balding figure in a badly-fit tux, but he couldn’t. The guy was boring and unimportant, despite being sure of the opposite.

A familiar touch on Tony’s shoulder yanked him out of his head, and Natasha was standing next to him in a stunning dress, deep purple velvet embracing her hips in a pattern that made her look even slimmer than she was, while a lighter shade emphasized her décolletage and harmonized with her amethyst earrings.

She had these subtle (or not so subtle, once Tony knew about Clint) ways to keep her boyfriend with herself even when said boyfriend couldn’t physically be close to her.

Her smile was the honey on her lips, and it looked sweet enough to give cavities just by watching it. “Excuse me, Senator McKenzie, but I’ll need Mr. Stark for a moment,” she said, and pulled Tony away before the politician could protest.

“Why thank you, Natalie,” Tony mumbled, as Nat’s high heels clicked confidently on the marble floor of the ballroom and she slipped through the crowd like an eel in water, yet another skill Tony admired in her.

Of course, she wasn’t a master spy for nothing, one who even fooled the certified genius Tony himself. After that fiasco, however, SHIELD decided to keep her next to Tony as Natalie. They could use a direct contact to Stark Industries, especially one who could be pulled out any moment if necessary given her employer’s involvement in her cover, Fury reasoned. Neither Natasha nor Pepper or Tony protested against the idea. Natalie was, after all, an excellent PA, while Natasha had slowly became somewhat of a close friend.

Nat led him to an empty study room, and once in she immediately dropped her act, just as easily as one kicked off uncomfortable shoes after a long day of work.

“What’s this about?” Tony asked immediately, looking out and expecting his suitcase to be ready here, adrenaline flooding his system as he was squaring himself up to any potential emergency, to switch the flip from Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, to Iron man: superhero extraordinaire and save the day.

“I was afraid you’d fall asleep on your seat,” Nat shrugged, snagged the glass out of his hands and plopped herself on a comfortable armchair. “[Habe ich einen Fehler gemacht?](Was%20I%20wrong?%20\(German\))”

Tony watched as she downed it in two big gulps, trying to get his mental bearings after realizing his expectations didn’t match the situation at all. “[Nein](No%20\(German\)),” he shrugged and walked to the desk.

“[Vous regardez á tort,](You%20looked%20at%20it%20the%20wrong%20way.%20\(French\))” she continued, lifting the now empty glass and switching languages again, and Tony followed suit.

“[Tu te fais trop de soucis,](You%20worry%20too%20much.%20\(French\))” he retorted easily while his fingers played with a little Justitia statue on the desk, weighing down one size of the balance, then the other. He was glad the golden temptation of the Scotch was gone from his peripheral vision, not taunting him anymore – yet he missed it, missed the comfort of the glass in his hands, the familiar weight, the sour taste and the easy relief. A part of him always wanted to have those back, even if rationally he knew how useless those sensations were and how quickly the drinking could turn bad.

“[Watashi ga?](Me?%20\(Japanese\))” It was Japanese this time, and Tony squinted as he tried to figure out the correct answer to that.

While the other languages he had known for a while, Natasha only recently started to teach him Japanese.

“[Anata no haikei o shiru, riyu ga nai to wa omowanai,](Knowing%20your%20background,%20i%20don't%20think%20it%20was%20without%20reason%20\(Japanese\))” she continued, and it should’ve been offending, but somehow she managed to say it in a manner that was more concerned than scornful. She even sounded… warm, somehow, like she genuinely cared.

Because she did care. And it was something Tony wasn’t used to.

“I’m not relapsing,” Tony scoffed, in English, forgetting about the impromptu language lesson.

“Are you sure about that?” Natasha stood up, putting down the empty glass, and coming closer to smooth her palm on his shoulders. She carefully started to knead the tension out of his muscles. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well lately and I’ve seen people react way worse than you do with the bad shit that happened.”

“[Sí, ne sono sicuro,](Yes,%20I%20am%20sure%20\(Italian\))” Tony stated, final and flat and maybe a bit harsher than he planned. In his defense, he had never been good with friendships, Rhodey and Pepper could testimony on that. “[Sto bene.](I%E2%80%99m%20fine.%20\(Italian\))”

He was rewarded by a bright smile. Which meant he either caught her somewhat unprepared or he played right into her hands. Definitely one of the two options.

In exchange of the Japanese lessons, Tony taught her Italian, and their mutual respect only grew when faced with each other’s ability to soak up knowledge like dry sponges. It was nice, if not that much of a surprise, that they shared the love of languages and not just their SHIELD affiliation.

“[Ti credo,](I%20believe%20you.%20\(Italian\))” she finally said, and stepped behind him. Pushing him down on the seat behind the desk, she upgraded her movements to a proper shoulder massage, even if just through the layers of his expensive suit. “You are doing well, Tony.”

He had no idea how to answer that. He had extensive scientific knowledge and plenty of experience to control formal social situations in his favor, but he was far less accommodated to the occasions when he was genuinely complimented.

In the back of his head, he knew the point of this whole conversation was probably just to distract him. A small voice inside still often reminded him that Nat’s sincerity wasn’t always credible even though it always seemed genuine. But it was hard to keep in mind. If it was an act, it was the best Tony had ever seen, and he had spent his whole life surrounded by people who wanted to use him.

He flashed a smile too, not sure if she could see it but completely sure that she  _ knew  _ about it anyway. “Ah, well, you know me. I’m a genius and all.”

“Yeah yeah,” Natasha’s voice held a smile too. “Now, Mr. Genius, show me your intellect and let’s go over that verb conjugation again. I’m still having trouble with some irregular reflexive verbs.”

“How could I resist a request like that,” Tony chuckled, and started to explain, drinks and temptations long forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> The meaning of the foreign sentences should be visible by hovering the mouse above the lines, but just in case I fucked that up (entirely possible), here are the translations again:
> 
> Was I wrong? (German)  
> You looked at it the wrong way. (French)  
> You worry too much. (French)  
> Me? (Japanese)  
> Knowing your background, i don’t think it was without reason. (Japanese)  
> Yes, I am sure. (…) I’m fine. (Italian)  
> I believe you. (Italian)
> 
> If you liked this story, please leave a comment, this author needs validation! Also consider reading my other fics or visiting [my tumblr](https://menatiera.tumblr.com/) as well! :)


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